


Poached Eggs

by CosmicMind



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: Demoman contemplates why he can't get out of bed again.(For Boots & Bombs Week 2019 Day 4: Re-occurrence)





	Poached Eggs

**Author's Note:**

> Vent fic. Also this one's a bit shorter than the others oof

Demoman could not get out of bed again. There was nothing physically wrong with his legs, yet he was unable to find the strength to move once again. This was the third time this month it happened on a quiet Sunday morning, He hated himself for that, for being so pathetic, even as a grown man in the midst of war.

 

 _‘May as well not bother going out at this point, ye fuckin’ bum,’_ he thought to himself as he glanced at the clock on his dresser which now read _12:34pm_. He remembered waking up around seven. He groaned and curled up farther under the covers. They were probably all talking about him by now as lunchtime was upon the base, about how sad it was Demoman was sleeping in.

 

Would Medic be gossiping about him to the team, or at least to his lover, despite the “doctor-patient confidentiality” he told every bloke here? Demoman wasn’t stupid; there was no doubt that he was. Medic loved gossip almost as much as he loved cutting warm flesh open for fun. Luckily, he probably didn’t know Demoman had been ignoring the orange pill bottle that has been untouched since he received them two weeks ago. Demoman would rather feel miserable than like a zombie.

 

Then Demoman remembered Soldier. Soldier was always here by now, waking him up for a morning run or to at least cuddle for a bit. But Soldier hadn’t visited at all this morning; Demoman hadn’t even heard his usually loud voice booming down the hallways. Had he been forgotten, left to rot away in his own bedroom?

 

A seed of guilt planted itself in Demoman’s chest and he scrunched his body up under the thin sheets. He knew this would happen eventually- Soldier realizing how much of a burden Demoman was and leaving him like everybody else. Why did Soldier even bother staying around anyways? All Demoman did for him was hold him back with his lax attitude and constant need for emotional affection, even if it was masked as general friendliness.

 

Demoman scooted to the edge of his bed to blindly grab near his night stand until he grasped a bottle of half-empty whiskey from the table. He sat up for the first time all morning and rubbed his tired eye. Once he had some liquor in him, he could go back to sleep and not worry about today. It was not like he planned on turning on the lights or opening the curtains anyways.

 

As Demoman opened the bottle and tipped it back in his mouth, he was stuck listening to his own thoughts.

 

 _‘Fucking disgrace. Can barely hold the one job ye have already._ ’

 

_‘Stop drinkin’ whiskey for breakfast, ye lazy shite. Go get food- though it’s not like you deserve it._

 

_‘You’re a black, Scottish cyclops with mommy issues. Jane must only pity you to stay this long.’_

 

_‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself!’_

_‘EVERYBODY HATES YOU, YOU PATHETIC BITCH!’_

_‘YOU ARE- ‘_

 

Demoman nearly dropped his whiskey on his bed when a sudden knock came at the door, firm yet not frantic. Taking a deep breath, Demoman set the alcohol back down on the night stand and went back under the covers. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, the person would go away. It was probably just Heavy or Sniper seeing if he wanted to play cards or grill burgers with Engineer.

 

After a long period of uncomfortable silence, another knock came.

 

Demoman went further under the covers. “Ahm not feelin’ well,” he called, “Just lemme rest today, aye? Must’ve eaten somethin’ rotten yesterday.”

 

More silence follows, and Demoman assumed the person had given up already. Then there was a final knock, and Demoman was ready to shout some insults before he was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice.

 

“Tavish… do I have permission to enter?”

 

Demoman’s throat went completely dry. He put his pillow over his head and prayed to God that Soldier would just go away. Couldn’t he see that Demoman wanted to be alone?

 

Despite the lack of a verbal response, Soldier still creaked the door open just enough to fit his body through. Light pooled into Demoman’s messy bedroom from the hallways, illuminating the lump underneath the pile of blankets and a pillow. Demoman heard the door be shut gently and the clunking of Soldier’s boots approaching, stepping across weeks-old clothes and various trash, half of which was alcohol bottles. There was dip in the bed near the spoon formed by Demoman’s legs, but no sound for a while.

 

“I, uh,” Soldier muttered, “Brought you something… Engie said you would be hungry.”

 

Demoman didn’t look up. He just couldn’t face Soldier, not like this.

 

“I burned it the first time. But then Engie helped me to go slow. I am sorry that it is not much.”

 

Demoman squeezed his eye shut. _‘Go away go away go away go away_ , _’_ he thought.

 

Soldier paused for a long time, shifting on the old mattress. “Would you like me to leave it here? I do not want to bother you, but… I do want to help, private.”

 

Demoman opened his eye again. He could barely make out much from the darkness of his blankets, but he still tried to make out Soldier’s form in the shadows. Just as Soldier was beginning to stand up, Demoman finally decided to throw the covers up and sit up in his bed. He squinted, trying to make out Soldier’s expression, but there was barely enough light to see the plate Soldier was holding out to him.

 

Demoman reached over to turn on his bedside lamp, and his mouth practically began watering at what he saw. Soldier was holding out a plate of toast, poached eggs (Demoman’s preferred style of eggs), and a hearty portion of roasted potato chunks. He was wearing his helmet, as he usually did outside of bathing and sleeping, but just seeing the lower portion of Soldier’s face was enough.

 

The genuine concern in Soldier’s lip and face wrinkles stung Demoman, but not it the way his thoughts did. He gingerly took the plate, along with the fork Soldier held out to him, and immediately began to dig in. Yep, Engineer definitely cooked 90% of this. Though Demoman didn’t care about the source right now; what mattered is that Soldier brought it to him without a look of pity or pain.

 

“Is- Is it good?” Soldier asked cautiously, shifting his hands together as he watched Demoman eat the first thing in nearly a solid day.

 

“Good?” Demoman asked with his mouthful and the first smile he’s been able to produce since yesterday, “It’s bloody _delicious_!”

 

Soldier lifted his head up, beaming. “That is good news!” he replied. He reached out and grabbed the top of Demoman’s hand as it rested on the side of the plate, squeezing lightly. He waited until Demoman finished and swallowed before clearing his throat. “I was worried about you. We all were… even the quack.”

 

Demoman’s heart sank as he set down his fork, staring at his lap. “Oh,” he replied, quietly.

 

“He wanted me to relay to you to take your ‘breath mints.’ I did not know the doc gave out candy; we are not children!”

 

Demoman forced a weak chuckle. “Aye,” he lied, “I did.”

 

The two sat awkwardly for a bit, Demoman setting his plate on the night stand and twiddling the covers in his lap. Soldier gulped, but never let go of Demoman’s hand.

 

“I want to help,” Soldier muttered, “Is there anything I can do? I want to be useful when you’re… sad, and Engie said you would appreciate it.” He gazed back up at Demoman, those dazzling blue eyes peeking out from under his helmet. “Would you like my help?”

 

Demoman bit his lip. He wanted to cry, yet he felt like he got rid of all his tears last night when he was staying up to stare at the ceiling. Cautiously, he nodded.

 

“Just… just sit with me,” Demoman whispered, “Till it goes away.”

 

Soldier gave another squeeze in response and let go of Demoman’s hand to remove his helmet to show his face. Demoman hid back under the covers once more, but not without scooting to the side and inviting Soldier in. Soldier looked happier than he would be if he was just told every communist dropped dead. He quickly threw his shoes off and scooted in between the wall and Demoman, wasting no time to let Demoman spoon him.

 

Once Soldier was sound asleep in minutes, Demoman sat back up. He stroked Soldier’s short hair lovingly, admiring how gorgeous and innocent Soldier’s sleeping face was. He grabbed his pill bottle and an untouched glass of water Soldier left out for him earlier to wash down his food. After taking his medication, Demoman turned the light back off and pressed his body back against Soldier’s to allow sleep to take him as well.


End file.
